No Boys Allowed
by OverThexM00N
Summary: Angel has a sleepover party and all the girls are invited! Cute and just a little sad.


**Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em, but they're fun to play with.

**A/N:** Yeah, I know, I'm working on a bunch of other things, but this will be a short, fluffy story, probably only three chapters long or something. I hope you enjoy this first chapter, it was fun to write.

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Mark had a tendency to forget he wasn't the only resident in the apartment.

Mimi scowled as she was jolted into consciousness by a bout of giggles somewhere in the kitchen area. With a growl she stuffed her face into her pillow, exhaling slowly as her dreams diminished into nothing and the throbbing pain of a hangover became apparent in her temples. "Mark, knock it off!" she shouted, though her voice was muffled into the pillow and Mark didn't seem to hear. However, the volume of her voice seemed ten times louder in her own head, and she cringed at the excessive pounding it provoked.

She lie there for a few moments as the giggling died down, dwindling into silence. Sweet silence. Closing her eyes, she buried her head under the covers, snatching Roger's pillow from his vacant half of the bed and pulling it over her head in an attempt to suppress the pulsing pain. With the now-quiet atmosphere and the darkness of her room, the throbbing subsided a bit, but suddenly Mark broke into another fit of laughter, this time much more obnoxious and just outside her door. "Mark! _Callate_!" she shouted, sitting up and hurling her pillow at the door. "_Cierre la boca, para el amor de Dios_!"

The laughed stopped once more, then started up just as it had done before, this time directed at Mimi's distress. Mimi sat panting as she recovered for the shock of hearing her own voice as though it were spoken into a megaphone positioned right next to her ear, then stood up, staggering a bit. She reached the door and held onto the doorknob for balance before flinging it open and walking right into Mark. She stumbled backwards a little, grabbing onto the doorframe for support, then glared at Mark as his face came into focus. Had it been any other morning, one where she would have awoken of her own accord, she'd love to be greeted by that face. But at the moment, that quirky, lopsided grin, coupled with those smiling eyes, crinkling at the corners and bright blue with merriment, made her sick.

"What's your problem?" she yelled, though not as loudly as before; she was finally starting to realize that shouting was not going to make her headache any better. "This past week I've gotten no more than six hours of sleep. Now, on my day off, you have to go and wake me with that incessant giggling!"

Mark was unfazed by her scolding, and still chuckling with that smile, he simply handed her an envelope, taking a bite of the crusty powdered donut he held in his free hand. Any anger left within Mimi was immediately replaced by a sudden curiosity as the pastel pink envelope, covered in powdered sugar, courtesy of Mark, was delivered into her hands. She could tell Mark must have opened it, and though he tried in vain to tape it shut again so Mimi wouldn't know, the fact that he had been laughing before gave him away. The contents must have been funny. Turning over the envelope, she realized that the letter was from Angel, and in curly cursive handwriting, written in purple ink, were the words 'Sleepover Party'. No wonder Mark was laughing.

Mimi tore open the envelope excitedly, and Mark stepped back, taken off guard at her giddy ferocity. Extracting the perfectly folded note within, Mimi shoved the envelope into Mark's hands and read.

"_Dearest Mimi-chica,_

_You are cordially invited to a sleepover at Angel's apartment. Collins'll be out for the night, so it'll be just us girls! Bring a blanket, pillow, your favorite movie, and, if you can afford to, a snack to share. We also might be making clothing, so if you've got an old window curtain that hasn't seen the light of day since last Christmas, bring it to the loft and we'll see what we can do with it! If you happen to have any old board games lying around, feel free to bring those too. I'll provide the ice cream and (gasp) coffee! You've read correctly, I did say coffee. Some blessed soul slipped me a twenty-dollar bill the other night when I was out drumming. What better way to spend it than splurging on coffee to share with friends?_

_I do hope you decide to come, as things wouldn't be as fun without our Mimi-chica! Not to mention I'd have to drink all that coffee by myself if no one showed up, and that'd be absolutely _unbearable

_Your dear friend,_

_Angel"_

Lifting her eyes from the letter to Mark's face, Mimi found that he had crammed the remains of the stale donut into his mouth and he now watched her expectantly with his cheeks stuffed like an acorn-storing squirrel's. "Well, tell Roger he gets no sex tonight, 'cause I'm going to a sleepover!" Mimi exclaimed, causing Mark to cough awkwardly and release a small cloud of powdered sugar.

Choking as he swallowed, Mark watched as Mimi flitted over to the door, snatching her wallet, stuffed with the week's tips and paycheck, off the kitchen table. "Where are you going?" Mark finally managed to blurt out, just before Mimi had a chance to open the door.

"Gonna buy snacks!" Mimi chirped gaily, waving her wallet around above her head.

"Not in your underwear you're not."

Looking down, Mimi realized she was still only clad in her leopard spotted bra and matching panties. Maybe that's what Mark was laughing at earlier.

Instead of getting embarrassed, Mimi merely bounded across the loft and dove back into Roger's room. "That reminds me, I should buy a new outfit to wear to Angel's!"

Mark sighed exasperatedly, making her way back over to the kitchen table for another dry donut. _Women._


End file.
